


I Saw the Lights Go Down

by thegoodthebadandthenerdy



Category: Smash (TV)
Genre: Angst, Character Study, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Suicide, It's the canonical stuff and not deeply described or gone into
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-11
Updated: 2017-03-11
Packaged: 2018-10-02 15:56:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10221962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegoodthebadandthenerdy/pseuds/thegoodthebadandthenerdy
Summary: Kyle Bishop and the lights of his life





	

**Author's Note:**

> I'm gonna apologize in advance.
> 
> I also made a playlist, if you're into that sort of thing  
> [ click here to listen to it on spotify ](https://open.spotify.com/user/the_scribbler/playlist/5stKB3dY9w9Htc7VZC0c0W)

When Kyle Bishop is four, he sees the lights of Broadway for the very first time. Not in person, but on a wrinkled post card with yellow edges that he found in the back of his parents' closet. He can't puzzle out all of the words signed on the back, but the one thing he does understand is the lights. 

They're all shades of colors, reds and yellows and greens and blue, and maybe they're printed on a card, but he can still feel them shining across his face, twinkling in his eyes.

He doesn't realize it, hell, he may not even remember this exact moment when he's older - but in those minutes he sat, staring at those Broadway lights, he makes a choice. That's where he'll be one day.

When he's 12, he sees the lights in person. They greet him like an old friend, he thinks, casting shadows across everything they don't dare touch, painting streaks of red and blue and yellow in his eyes. They burn, almost, but in a good way. In a way that he wants to bottle up and never forget because it lights a fire inside of him, somewhere deep, where it can grow until he's got his chance.

His parents take him to see his first and only live Broadway production - they'd all been saving for countless days to be able to afford the 3 tickets. It's worth it, they all know. But it's not worth it to his parents the way it's worth it to Kyle.

He realizes, during intermission, that he doesn't want to be up there on stage. And maybe he realized that sooner, when he got cast in the school play and all he wanted to do was bug the crew backstage instead of run his lines, but he knows it for sure now.

Because it's not the direction or choreography or lights - for once - that draw him in. Not the songs, either - he enjoys them, of course - but it's….

It's the story. Everything that happens in between.

He likes the in between.

So he makes another decision, without realizing it. He'll get to Broadway, hell or high water, but he'll make that dream come true in the in between.

When he's barely 16 a different kind of light greets him. It's a harsh, neon sign in the window of the little convenience store he works at. "Open 24 Hours" it blinks, and it hurts Kyle's eyes in a way that's not quite comfortable.

His parents hadn't wanted him to take the job, they wanted him to focus on school, because sometimes school was a little more challenging than it had any right to be, but he took the job anyway, because he was tired of watching his parents hunch over envelopes stamped in red ink and try to figure out how they'd make it all work.

They weren't rich by any means, he knew that much, had since he was a kid. He had an old, creaky bed, and clothes, and food on the table, yes, but he still knew what it meant to struggle to find the money to keep the heat on for just one more month. To decide between necessities, to patch and repatch clothes until he couldn't anymore.

So he took the job that paid in crisp, high-smelling bills instead of something more official, and he puzzled out math equations that took the whole page to work out under the angry glow of the "Open 24 Hours" sign. He did this between selling chips and candy to customers because it was what he had to do, what he _wanted to do_. That was a decision he never had to think about.

He's 16 (and a half, thank you very much) when he meets Jimmy, who is a light unto himself. 

Kyle's locking up after his shift on a Saturday night when he sees him. A boy, about his age, pushed up against a brick wall, one hand deep in his leather jacket, the other dipping low into the pockets of passers-by.

Kyle has to walk that way to get home _anyway_ and something righteous flares in him, so he stamps his way over and stops in front of the boy.

 _I saw that_ is probably not the best conversation opener, nor is it a good approach to confront a boy who obviously has no qualms with stealing. Honestly, there's no idea what else he has no qualms about. And it's dark, and there aren't that many people around now, and lights are few and far between down here - sufficed to say, Kyle's starting to regret his decision.

But the boy just grins. He's got dark purple smudges under his eyes, and he looks a little pale, but he grins and well, Kyle has _eyes_ so he knows that objectively speaking, this boy isn't terrible-looking.

Jimmy. That's what he says his name is, and then he asks for Kyle's. And, okay, Kyle stammers a little, but it's dark and he's talking to a cute pick-pocket that he's never met, forgive him.

_You work at the convenience store right there, yeah? I've seen you around._

See, Jimmy knows how to converse. But maybe that's because Jimmy has fear for nothing. Especially not Kyle.

Kyle nods dumbly because he's not exactly sure what else he's supposed to say. And Jimmy flashes him another grin and laughs and tells him not to be so scared. Kyle smiles weakly, and then he sets off down the sidewalk, calling over his shoulder about how he really needs to get home.

And that's the end of it. Or so, 16 (and a half) year old Kyle thinks.

But Kyle still has a lot to learn, so it shouldn't be a surprise when he sees Jimmy again the next night he works. Or the next. Or every night he works for weeks.

They only chat for a few minutes each night, after Kyle's locked up the store. Well, the first few nights at least. And then two weeks pass and Jimmy strolls in like he own the place, daring to talk to Kyle while he's trying to work.

And then it's been two months and now Jimmy sits on the counter and let's Kyle do his schoolwork in quiet - except for when he's doing math, which, it turns out, Jimmy is exceptional at.

They become fast friends, but Kyle still doesn't know a lot about him. He knows a little, what Jimmy has let slip here and there, but he still wonders. Because Kyle isn't stupid, and he sees the gauntness of Jimmy's face sometimes, and feels all the nervous energy that radiates off of him when he comes in to the store high. Those are the days Kyle tells him to leave, something that could equate to anger shaking in his voice.

But the next night, Jimmy will be there, waiting on Kyle to get off of work. He'll say all the right things, worry about Kyle's tired eyes - because he's worked every night this week - and ultimately worm his way back into Kyle's good graces.

Kyle doesn't realize it, but he makes a decision. The same one, over and over again. _He can stay._

He's freshly 17 when he decides that really, truly hates that "Open 24 Hours" sign.

He hadn't seen Jimmy in a week. Which he was hoping meant that he was just out partying, and not dead in a ditch somewhere.

He was close to shutting down for the night. One last transaction and then he could go home. Which was good, because it was freezing in the store and he was tired and he just wanted to pull a blanket around his shoulders and escape his worry for a little while.

He closes up the register, does what he has to on that front, and hops the counter. The bell above the door chimes, and he calls a sympathetic, "Sorry, we're closed" over his shoulder as he tugs his thick cardigan on.

But the door doesn't open again, and fear bubbles in Kyle until he turns around and sees Jimmy, eye swollen shut, lip busted and oozing, tears crusted to his bruised face.

 _Damnit, Jimmy,_ he hisses, but he's not mad, he's grateful, because at least he's alive. But even knowing that he can't quite quell the fear in his chest.

And Kyle makes another split decision, and pulls Jimmy home with him. Because even now, having only known each other for 6 months, Kyle would always choose Jimmy.

He's 21 and more than a little buzzed. Truthfully, he's drunk off his ass, and he can't quit laughing. It's his birthday and Jimmy decides that he's gotta be the one to take him out for his first drink - which turned into enough that Kyle can't remember the exact amount.

Jimmy bails about an hour in so he can chat up a pretty brunette and Kyle is not at all upset over this. Definitely not. A tall, handsome guy sits a couple seats away and tries to engage in some form of friendly conversation with him. It works, though it takes Kyle a minute to pull his eyes off of Jimmy, hands low on the girl's waist.

It's an image that he can't really shake, even as the man beside him shamelessly flirts. And Kyle tries - he really does, because this guy has these deep dimples and a nice laugh, but of course Jimmy fucks it up.

There's only one seat in between Kyle and the other guy now, which, turns out, is just enough space for Jimmy to wiggle his way into. He slings his arm around Kyle's shoulders, and he's drunkely slurring an awful rendition of Happy Birthday, and Kyle's sobered up enough to recognize the look the bartender is giving them.

He heaves a sigh, fishing his wallet out and throwing the appropriate amount of bills down, before he locks his arm around Jimmy's waist, and leads him from the bar - but not before sending the man he was talking to a sorry smile.

Jimmy breaks free from Kyle's firm grasp, and spins away, laughing over nothing and calling out observations to Kyle.

Once he realizes that he's not going to get an answer, he frowns, loping over to his friend. He notices the posture - corssed arms, tucked chin, tight jaw - and instantly knows that he's Fucked Up with a capital f and u respectively.

But he's drunk, so instead of leaving well enough alone, he prods, oooking for answers he's not ready to hear.

_What're you mad for?_

_It's your birthday, man. Take a day off._

_What did I do?_

And finally, finally, Kyle snaps. They're on a dark stretch of back road, grass gently swaying, the new moon lighting their way. 

_You left me on my birthday to go flirt with some girl in a bar, Jimmy._

_Aw, c'mon, you're not seriously mad about that are you?_

_Actually, Jimmy? Actually, I am. I'm fucking pissed. Because I know, I know you know. You've had to have seen it all over my face by now. At least when we were kids. Because I've fucking tried so damn hard not to make you uncomfortable, and just when I'm trying to, you know not think about it, do a little flirting of my own, you come in like a damn demolition crew._

_What are you going on about? Wait, oh shit, dude, you were totally flirting with that guy, I am so sorry-_

_I'm so fucking sick of your empty apologies! Do you even know what you're apologizing for anymore?_

_Kyle, c'mon-_

_I love you. And I've loved you for years and I'm tired of you treating me like shit and then when you come in and ruin whatever I've got going for myself - expecting me to just go along with you._

_I love you too, man_

_No! Not - just, just forget it!_

And then he's freshly 21 and crying as he pushes past his best friend and walks home alone.

Jimmy tries to broach the subject the next day as he hands Kyle pain medicine and hot tea for his migraine, but Kyle shakes his head. _What are you talking about?_ he laughs, smiling.

And Jimmy just shakes it off, because he must have dreamt it. Or maybe Kyle really doesn't remember.

But Kyle does. And he makes the decision to never bring it up again.

He's 22 when he flips on a light switch and looks at the bare-bones of his new home. It's not much in the way of space, but it's enough, and it's his - Jimmy's too, but Kyle's name is on the lease because Jimmy claims to have shit credit. Frankly, that's unsurprising.

Kyle tosses his bag into what will be the living room, and does a small circle. It's dark out now, but there's a warm glow from the uncovered light bulbs bouncing around the room, and Kyle can see what it'll be like.

Jimmy calls the loft, scaling it in seconds flat, and Kyle can't help but laugh. He crosses his arms over his chest and just grins up at his best friend who's swinging his feet over the side childishly. This is what they've been working towards, and it just puts them one step closer.

They slowly populate the space with furniture. Stuff that they find for cheap, or on the side of the road. Back alleys become their friend, and soon it really does feel like home.

Jimmy's 23rd birthday is only a couple weeks after that, and Kyle manages to pull off a piano for him. They embrace after the gift is presented, arms wrapped around each other, and Kyle let's himself have one moment - just one - where things are different. But soon it's over, and Jimmy's seated on the bench, already concocting tunes and singing grandly.

It's enough, Kyle decides. As long as he's got Jimmy in some capacity it's enough.

He's 23 and working in a bar. Not exactly where he thought he'd be, but it pays the bills. Plus, he talked the manager into employing Jimmy too, so it keeps him somewhat out of trouble.

It's a good job, and the hours work for them. They've been working on a musical for a couple years now, but something about the bar inspires Jimmy, so more and more of it has been floating to life under the grimy lights.

He's technically not supposed to play the piano, but they're left to lock up at night - well, Kyle is, apparently he's trustworthy - and well, Jimmy's never been one for rules.

So, Kyle scrubs away at the bar top, and listens to Jimmy hum his way through half finished songs, scribble with a waning ink pen on napkins printed with the bars logo, genuinely relax for once in his life.

When Jimmy's in front of a piano, he's his best self. It's the version that Kyle loves the most, because he knows, of no one else does, that this is the true Jimmy, deep down.

So that's why he never complains about getting stuck picking up Jimmy's slack - he's been doing it for years, hasn't he? At least this is a productive trade off. 

That's another decision he makes - he'd do all of Jimmy's work, clean up all his messes, if it means he stays with his music. Because music is where Jimmy is truly free - unburdened, happy. Music is where Jimmy escapes and flourishes and smiles and leaves all his baggage behind. It saved him just as much as Kyle did. And Kyle knows it better than anyone, maybe he's the only one who knows that truth to its fullest extent.

Kyle's almost 23 when Karen walks into the bar and subsequently their lives. Their first meeting isn't as tactful as he'd have liked, but she keeps coming around, so he figures he didn't fuck it up too bad.

Letting Karen into their lives seems to be like pulling the stopper out of the drain. After that, everything, everyone comes flooding in. 

Hit List is finally more than a few napkins and a book written on a shitty computer that has to stay plugged in for it to work. 

It's flesh and blood and music and something that doesn't feel completely cobbled together. It's people who actually want to see it, want to see Kyle and Jimmy, succeed instead of telling them it's a pipe dream.

There's a setback, because there's always a setback, when they have their first reading. And maybe Kyle feels like all those people who ever told him he wouldn't amount to anything were right. Because all of Jimmy's work is praised, but the one thing, the one thing that was solely his is the reason for tightly bound polite smiles and soft words that are laced with pity.

But he bounces back. He has to, he has to because he promised himself so many times that he'd do this, and he has to because he needs to prove all those people wrong. 

So he shakes it off an learns to take everything in stride. He edits and revises and proofreads and edits and revises and proofreads and-

And when Jimmy isn't off terrorizing the streets Kyle makes him sit down so he can read parts of the book to him to get feedback. He usually has to bribe him with a beer or the promise that it's the only time it'll happen that week, but Jimmy still sits and still pays attention and doesn't complain and gives something akin to good feedback.

But Kyle doesn't mind because he sees the improvement, in his book, in the music, even in Jimmy. He sees the improvement washed across the stars that seem to shine just a twinge brighter and he sighs and knows he's made the right decision.

And then he's barely 23 and his show is in an actual theater. Not some shitty hole-in-the-wall, but an honest to God theater with actual chairs affixed to the ground and an actual stage that's big enough for more than two actors and one prop. He makes promises on the lights outside that theater every night.

There's drama at every single turn, but he's still elated. Still in disbelief that his dream that he's been dreaming since he was 4 is that much closer to being _real_. They just have to make it through this run. If they can just keep their cast (Jimmy) on track for a couple more weeks then they're golden.

It's easier said than done with Jimmy fighting everyone at every step. He tries to talk some kind of sense into him, tries to show him that they're so close to everything they've been working towards since they were those kids writing dumb jingles in a sketchy 24 hour convenience store.

But it's not enough, Kyle's not enough, he's beginning to feel like he's never enough when it comes to Jimmy, and they lose him. Yes, his understudy is fnatastic, and yes, Kyle feels lucky to have such a brilliant cast, but God, this was always him and Jimmy, it was supposed to be them, Jimmy was supposed be there, he was supposed to be beside Kyle to see Hit List to fruition.

And then there's the bar, and Jimmy, lashing out, like always; nipping at anyone who's ever shown him kindness, like always; Kyle feeling embarrassed and angry and not understanding why, like always.

And then there's Karen, giving him the push he's always needed - someone on the outside that realizes he's not overreacting.

And then Kyle, somewhere in the middle of 23 years old, sees lights. And he makes his final decision.

Kyle Bishop doesn't make it to 24 and he doesn't see those lights that he promised on every night dim just for him.

**Author's Note:**

> I've only ever really cried while writing like 3 fics and this, this is one of them.
> 
> If I need to tag anything else please let me know!
> 
> Find me on tumblr as thegoodthebadandthenerdy and feel free to come yell with me about Smash tbh


End file.
